


Everytime I Die (So Below)

by OnlyOneWoman



Series: Belize Shadow [2]
Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Feels, Belize - Freeform, Bottoming from the Top, Closeted Character, Confusion, Denial of Feelings, Derdrian, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Roller Coaster, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Homophobia, Idiots in Love, Insecurity, Kissing, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Self-Hatred, Unresolved Emotional Tension, toxic masculinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-03 19:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11538936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneWoman/pseuds/OnlyOneWoman
Summary: Yeah, this is a follow-up to "Far Up High" and takes place in Belize, some days after the events in "Far Up High". They boys are angsty and Deran is a HUGE mess after his first bottom experience, dealing with it by... not dealing at all. I think that pretty much sums it up XD





	1. Chapter 1

Deran’s knees are scraping against the grains of sand on sheet.The smooth, wet heat is alright – no, it’s good! It’s _exactly_ as it fucking should be and the chick, Hannah or something, prefers it from behind which makes all this so much easier. Everyone has their prefered positions, right?  
  
It’s not that it isn’t good, it’s just not… Adrian? Hannah is a large, black girl with bouncing ass, glistening smooth skin and like most girls Deran’s been with, she knows how she wants it. She’s also smart, funny and head-on in a way most of his lays haven’t been and made Deran laugh more during that boring party than he’s done in weeks. She’s close now, rubbing her clit, telling him to go harder and Deran, being the master of camping up half-assed orgasms for show, can tell she’s clearly not faking. His own climax feels more like just getting the job done.  
  
When he slides out from her and gets rid of the condom, Hannah strokes her hair back and grins.  
  
”I needed that. Mind if I smoke?”  
  
Deran just grabs the package of cigarettes and the lighter on the nightstand and hands it to her. Of course he doesn’t mind, it’s her fucking room. Well, technically it’s the motel’s but still. Hannah lights one and tosses the package back to him.  
  
”Help yourself.”  
  
An easy-going, handsome girl, no _woman_ , who isn’t bullshitting. They’re both just a moment of fun to each other, the rules so clear they don’t have to be mentioned and also the fifth girl Deran has slept with this week. He doesn’t remember anyone’s name. Hannah blows out.  
  
”You’re not really the chatty type, huh?”  
  
Deran supposes he looks pissed because Hannah puts her hands up.  
  
”Hey, it wasn’t a critique. If I want pillow-talk I go for the chicks.”  
”You swing both ways?”  
”I swing any way I feel like. Not into anything serious at the moment, though. Too much other shit to deal with.”  
  
She has a relaxed, confident smile and Deran is utterly grateful they’re on the same page with this one night stand. A sound from the floor makes her leave the bed and she fishes up a cellphone from the jeans.  
  
”Fuck, I gotta go, didn’t realise it was so late. Have an exam tomorrow and I need to get some sleep. Sorry if I seem rude.”  
  
Deran just smiles and shrugs.  
  
”I’m not one for pillow-talk either.”  
  
Actually he’s more relieved she’s leaving than he wants to admit and as soon as she’s dressed, she grabs her handbag and gives a small waving.  
  
”Nice meeting you.”  
”You too.”  
  
When the door closes behind her, Deran finishes his smoke and then sinks back on the pillow and closes his eyes. He’s tired. Of people, of sex, of himself. He’s not seen Adrian for many days, in fact he’s been avoiding him like fucking plague since the last time. Instead, Deran’s acted like a horny teen, burying his cock in whatever hole offered, licked, rubbed and thrusted himself away from the events in his apartment less than two weeks ago, each time and girl just adding to the feeling that his whole world was falling apart around him.  
  
The room is boring, sternly even, and it reeks from sex and emptiness. Regrets. Deran doesn’t regret things since it’s pointless when you can’t make something undone, but he feels disgusted by himself now and Adrian wont leave him alone. His best friend keeps breaking into his mind, reminding Deran of lines that should never have been crossed, things feeling good in a way they shouldn’t. And with every half-assed or worse, faked, orgasm Deran has come to hate himself a little more. Everytime another piece of him seems to die.


	2. Chapter 2

He’s known it somewhere for a very long time. Deran is one hell of a liar when he needs to, but there are only so many repeated signs over twenty years or so you can ignore completely and rely on never to stab you in your back. It was easy at first. Everyone prefered being with their pals. Chicks were boring and only good for one thing – Deran looked through that kind of bragging quite fast because those who bragged the most were often shy as hell when it came to make a move – and when you’re drunk, mock wrestling and hugging your pals is no big deal. That’s how Deran discovered just how much another man’s scent could turn him on but for some reason it hasn’t really clicked completely until now. He’s fucked Adrian for a while now, of course Deran’s done the fucking because he isn’t… _Fuck._  
  
They were high, both of them and Deran isn’t capable of pretending it’s Adrian’s fault one bit. His memory isn’t enough clouded for that kind of self-deception. He was more than willing, it wasn’t even hard and Adrian lead him over the barrier so easily, like Deran’s body had just waited for it and it was simply just too fucking _good_ for the memory to be erased or twisted. Lying to your mind is one thing but lying to your body is not as easy. Adrian’s touches are glued to Deran’s skin, to all the places he had no intention letting him touch.  
  
Deran grits his teeth and lights another smoke. The boring motel room feels even more depressing now and he picks his stuff up and leaves. He’s already paid and the owner can find his own damn key. It’s two in the morning, the air is cool and Deran goes to the parking lot where he parked his car, gets inside and breathes heavily for a while before driving back the apartment he’s not been able to call home. He drives like he’s in a hurry and when he gets back to the impersonal, empty flat he’s renting, he peels his clothes off and gets into the shower, trying to wash away yet another unknown girls scent from his skin.  
  
Belize… He’d not even planned on going here. Not until Adrian started talking about it and Smurf was getting more of a pain in the ass than usual. The apartment Deran’s renting is nice but it doesn’t feel like a home one bit. If the motel room reeked of emptiness, this place does from loneliness. Deran is used to challenges. He loves them, the rush and kick of them makes him high in a way speed can’t. And still, compared to what he did that night with Adrian, all of them fades to nothing. The way he tasted and felt, how his tongue drove Deran mad… How he… Deran smashes a fist in the tile, roaring from the pain, the frustration, the fact that the fucking weed only let him cross a line but not forget about it.  
  
The number of unknown girls he’s been with is just fucking pathetic, not to mention disgusting. Deran feels like a slutty teen, too stupid to know when it’s not worth it and the only thing these nameless, impersonal fucks have given him, is a sense of animalistic stupidity. The fact that he remembered condoms everytime seems to be the only thing that differs him from a fucking goat. And to make it worse, it doesn’t even feel good. The last time it felt good was with Adrian and not even the chick who wanted Deran to take the backdoor compared.   
  
It’s not about guys. It’s about Adrian. Adrian’s hands, ass, cock and mouth. Adrian’s kisses, Adrian’s scent and Adrian’s nails digging into Deran’s skin. He doesn’t smell like Adrian anymore, the scent is gone with the girls, just as he intended and now he misses it. He’s not answered or returned any of his calls, not opened the messages and he’s even stayed off the beach. The last week has been one long road of downfall, diving into some sort of simultaneous self-pity and fury. And the more Deran’s tried to forget and re-shape what happened and what he feels, the more his thoughts have turned to Adrian.   
  
Deran’s never felt anything like this before. Adrian is his friend for fucks sake and he is also fireflies over Deran’s skin, heated kisses, warm eyes and a deep pounding stirring up an excitement Deran never intended to know about. Maybe he should just go back home again. To Smurf, Craig and Pope… just forget all about this and… And Adrian would be there too. It’s not as if Deran can make him move. What if he didn’t stay, didn’t go back but took off… where and do what? Surf and hook up with more chicks, far away from Adrian? The thought makes his stomach turn. And the thought of Adrian’s body is like a fucking alarm bell for his cock.  
  
He strokes himself, using the unperfumed soap and it’s not the girl this night, not the girls he’s hooked up with or any girl what so ever invading his mind, but Adrian, just Adrian.


	3. Chapter 3

Belize is a huge place and avoiding Adrian isn’t hard. All Deran has to do is staying off their usual places and those Adrian thinks are most likely to find him. Deran manages to stay away from him for almost nine days before he finds him outside the door, looking anything but happy.  
  
”Where the _fuck_ have you been?”  
  
Deran shrugs, making an effort to look indifferent.  
  
”I’ve been around. What are you, my mom or what?”  
  
Adrian just grabs Derans hoodie and in a way completely unusual for him, he practically throws Deran to the ground.  
  
”You fucking idiot! You selfish piece of _shit_! You have any idea how worried I’ve been? I’ve asked around, I’ve called Craig, called Pope and… and speaking of your mom, I’ve been sitting here for three hours trying to decide whether I should call her too! Or fucking cops, man!”  
  
His friend is hoovering over him, barking and screaming and, which is also an anomali, seems to have forgotten about neighbours or anyone else who might be hearing.  
  
”You’re my _friend_ , Deran, not some fucking one-night-stand and whatever happened between us we still are. At least from my part.”  
  
That hits where intended to and all lust to fight, to make this into some stupid screaming and punching thing, leaves Deran and he just feels tired. He’s been acting like an asshole, he knows that and the only excuse for it, is that even the thought of Adrian is enough to send his mind into such one hell of a spiral he actually doesn’t know how to handle it. Adrian, now more relieved and pissed than worried – yes, Deran finally understands that’s what he was and had every right to be – rubs his face and sighs.  
  
”Look, I get it. We’ve had some fun together and I get that you regret what we did last time but it’s _done_ , Deran and we were high as hell. Treating me like I don’t exist wont change that. I didn’t force you, man, no one knows shit about it and considering how you live your life, can you fucking blame me from getting shitscared when you just take off? I… I’ve waited for a call from the cops to pick you up from jail or worse, identify a… fucking _corpse_!”  
  
Deran doesn’t know what to say except from I’m sorry, that isn’t enough in any way and he realises he’d not even considered Adrian to actually worry about him. Angry, yes. Disappointed, absolutely. But scared? No, Deran admits that thought never crossed his mind, but on the other hand, thinking about such things has never really been his thing. He swallows and raises from the ground.  
  
”I’m sorry, man. Okay? Fuck… I didn’t… I just needed to be alone.”  
”Yeah? Deran, you could’ve just told me. Called, texted, left a fucking _note_. Actually I don’t know whether I should punch or hug you.”  
  
Adrian looks so frustrated and knackered, Deran forgets about his own discomfort and pulls him into a hug. He can feel both their hearts pounding and the way Adrian tries to calm his breath which is easier said than done because the man is literally shaking. Deran strokes his back, sighing into the hoodie fabric and realises this isn’t about his own fucked up brain now, it’s about him acting like an asshole towards a friend.  
  
”Wanna come inside? Before the neighbors start wondering.”  
”You want me to?”  
  
Adrian is hurt and Deran forces himself to not get himself all worked up, but be nice.  
  
”Yeah.”  
  
They let go of each other and Deran opens the door, lets Adrian in to the depressing apartment and locks behind them.  
  
”You want something? A beer?”  
”No thanks.”  
  
Adrian sits down on one the chairs by the table, leaning back and Deran bites his lip.  
  
”You sat there for three hours?”  
”Yeah.”  
”You’re an idiot.”  
”Perhaps, but at least I’m not lying to myself.”  
”I’m not lying to myself.”  
”No, of course not, you’ve just spent days sleeping with every chick available and avoiding me like plague after letting me fuck you on my kitchen floor. Sounds _perfectly_ normal to me. I… I’ve been with guys who… when I first realised I was gay, guys who didn’t gave a fuck if I liked it or not, you know. And I felt like shit.”  
  
Adrian’s eyes are big and scared now, a worry too deep Deran can’t shrug it off.  
  
”I… I’ve been wondering if you… I don’t know… I don’t remember forcing you or anything, but…”  
  
When Deran realises what Adrian is saying, his first impulse is to laugh but he manages to stop himself and he sinks down, takes Adrian’s face between his hands, leaning his elbows on his friend’s thighs because maybe he’s an asshole and a selfish prick but it takes a special kind of douchebag to let someone who cares about you, think _he’s_ the asshole. Deran is a lot of anything but nice things, among them violent, reckless, immature and selfish, but he’s not Smurf.  
  
”Hey, stop, just _stop_ , okay? Fuck... I… You didn’t force me to do anything, man and I… I’m sorry I just took off. Alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I just didn’t think… I… I just don’t want… Fuck, I’m not gay!”  
”I _know_! You’re the only one who even mentioned that, Deran. I’ve never said two shits about what you are or not, so don’t you put fucking words in my mouth. We’ve been fucking for some time now and if you think I’m disgusting for liking your cock up my ass, if you look down on me…”  
”Will you… God, this is… just shut the fuck up, Adrian!”


	4. Chapter 4

He’s not good with this, Deran knows that. The only kind of relationships he’s familiar with, are those Smurf allowed him to have. Mother/son. Competitor. Him and Craig, Pope and Baz… She’s never let any of them form relationships as brothers, which is even worse considering how secluded they’ve lived. Family first, sure, but they’ve not really been a family, more of a unit trying to survive and get the most out of it in their own way.  
  
Deran can, now as there’s silence in the kitchen, feel exactly how uncharted these waters are to him and how little he has to hold onto, not to sink down. Adrian isn’t Smurf, he’s as far away from Smurf one could ever hope for and he’s waiting for Deran to say something, anything. Deran is still leaning on Adrian’s thighs, still holding his face and whatever he feels it’s certainly not disgust. Not with Adrian.  
  
”I don’t… look down on you. What we have here… I mean, I like it. It’s _good_ , man. But I like chicks and if you can’t stand me fucking someone else, that’s your problem.”  
  
He’s doing it again. Changing the subject. It comes so natural, lying is so easy for him because that’s kind of the story of Deran’s life. Lying, hiding, watching, concealing and never look back or too far forward. Never digging too deep, because once Deran discovers something new within himself, Smurf will see it too and find a way to use it for her own purpose. He swallows.  
  
”I’m sorry, I truly am, for taking off. Okay? And I don’t think you’re disgusting, that’s just bullshit, man.”  
”And what about you?”  
”Me?”  
  
Adrian leans back again and Deran moves his hands, not away but to Adrian’s thighs, crossing his arms on his lap and lays his head down, like he’s sleepy. He’s heavy, from a weariness laying far deeper than the one caused by the neverending struggle to keep Smurf off or dealing with the backsides of the life she’s groomed all her boys into. The blonde hair falls over Adrian’s knees and he entangles a hand in it, scraping the scalp with his blunt nails.  
  
”Yeah, you. What do you think of yourself, Deran?”  
”If I needed a shrink I’d make an appointment.”  
  
They ignore the fact that both of them, on some level, knows that Deran is showing a lot of signs of a mental breakdown, even if it’s not the worst kind. They also ignore all the other things not having anything to do with this, that could keep a shrink occupied for years. Adrian keeps scratching his head, softly and Deran, silently and for a reason he doesn’t understand, is grateful he’s had a shower. That, on top of all pathetic things, at least Adrian doesn’t have to put up with smelling clothes and greesy hair.  
  
”I’m not into guys.”  
  
Silence. Scraping.  
  
”I’m not… It was a one time thing, okay.”  
  
Scraping. Sounds from bats and nightly birds coming from outside, the wildlife in Belize is pretty active at night. Adrian swallows, lets his hand wander down Deran’s neck. It’s a soft touch, but not intruding or sexual in any way.  
  
”I’m not gay.”  
  
It’s just that Adrian, for some fucking reason, beats every chick Deran’s been with and that messes with his head. Deran’s had a lot of feelings towards other guys but he’s always been able to ignore them. Re-shape them, re-draw the lines whenever he’s crossed them and disguise them so well he can even fool himself sometimes. Of course a dude is better with a hand- or blowjob, because having a dick simply means you know better than a chick what feels good. It’s convenient, easier than dealing with chicks. Less bullshit, right?  
  
Silence. Scraping. Breathing.  
  
”You want me to stay?”  
  
He should say no. Should tell Adrian to leave for a lot of reasons, but Deran can’t remember any of them now. Not with the brushing, gentle scrapes in his hair, not when he’s asked with _that_ voice. Neutral, calm and stable in a way that makes the world feel less scattered again. Deran buries his face against Adrian’s thigh, mumbling so quiet even the sound of night beasts almost drowns it.  
  
”Please… Please, stay.”


	5. Chapter 5

It’s too late for coffee but more beer is a bad idea now and making coffee gives Deran something to do while he figures out what he wants. Or what he will allow himself to want. He’s walking over the spot on the floor where Adrian fucked him, getting the coffee and taking out a couple of mugs from the cupboard. The sound from the coffee brewer is low and chugging, almost homey if Deran closes his eyes and forgets where he is. At least the place doesn’t smell like Adrian anymore. That thought is disturbingly worrying and Deran quickly fills up the mugs. Adrian is sitting in the couch and the tv is on, showing some watersport shit Deran couldn’t care less about. He hands Adrian a mug.  
  
”Here.”  
”Thanks.”  
  
Fingers slightly touching and Deran sits down, suddenly not sure of the proper distance. The gaps and lines between what he thinks he wants, what he thinks he should want, what he’s wanted and never wanted have never been so blurry.   
  
”Gonna see any of them again?”  
”Who?”  
”The girls you’ve seen.”  
  
Deran feels his cheeks heat and he shrugs.  
  
”Maybe.”  
  
Hopefully not. He wants to. No, he _wants to want to_ and that’s not the same. Far from it. Adrian takes a sip of his coffee.  
  
”You remember Stan?”  
”Stan who?”  
”Galvez. The guy who used to tease me in high school.”  
”That tall asshole? Football player?”  
”Yeah.”  
”Should’ve kicked his ass.”  
”The reason I didn’t let you was because I fucked him.”  
  
Deran chokes on his coffee and coughs as Adrian chuckles and pats his back.  
  
”Shocked, huh?”  
”He was like… almost seven feet tall!”  
”Not on his hands and knees.”  
  
Deran swallows and Adrian sighs.  
  
”Look, man I get this is… beyond fucked up for you, what we did, but the point is, we like what we like. It doesn’t make you… I don’t know… less of a man or whatever the fuck you’re worrying about. And I don’t care if you’re gay, bi or just experimenting, but don’t fucking run off like that. Hate to say it, man, but that’s kinda being a pussy. What did you think was gonna happen? That you were gonna sprout tits or shit in rainbow colours or something?”  
  
This might be the strangest conversation they’ve ever had and Deran laughs. He’s exhausted, inside out feels like a fucking wreck and he needs to sleep. And eat. He just doesn’t want to be alone, like at all and the only company he actually wants is Adrian, no matter what happened between them.   
  
”Can’t we just grab something to eat and head over to your place? Or something. I’m starving and this place is fucking depressing.”  
”On one condition.”  
”Yeah, what’s that?”  
”Don’t change your mind halfways and take off.”  
  
Deran snorts.  
  
”Do I look like I’m about to run away, huh?”  
  
He gets up, grabs his keys and jacket and Adrian decides it’s not a good idea to say ”yeah, you kinda do”.


	6. Chapter 6

The fajitas are a bit sloppy but Deran isn’t particularly interested in food at the moment. He finishes them quickly and swallows down the energy drink, grimazing from the taste he’s never liked even with vodka. Does the work though, that’s the point. They took Adrian’s car – of course – and honestly Deran doesn’t even know if his own is parked at home or not. Or what day it is. There are actually a lot of fucking things he knows nothing about at the moment.  
  
Adrian doesn’t speak. He’s focused on the food and the distant look says it’s not a good time to talk. But on the other hand, it never is if you ask Deran Cody. If he could go through life without talking, like deep shit talk, he’d be happy. At least happier. Talking means listening to Smurf and not being listened to unless you’re on her side. She’s only interested if you need her, depending on her money but mostly her approval desperately. Smurf’s life philosophy is that you should feel grateful for her love, but even more so scared you’ll loose it. But Deran doesn’t need her, he needs Adrian, even more than he needs his brothers and even if he’s unaware of it, the feeling he can’t identify for the fear it is, threatens to crush him.  
  
As soon as Adrian’s done eating, he turns the engine on and drives off. Deran sips on the last of his energy drink and then squeezes the can in his palm. He feels bloated, almost sick. From the greasy food, most likely, but also from the last days of mindless drinking and empty fucking. Whatever it was he tried to get rid of after his last time with Adrian, it worked and no hot shower can make Dean feel less disgusting and pathetic now. The Cody family already has one manslut and that’s Craig. Craig is the one who’s never been able to keep it in his pants, who’s had girls trying to sneak out from his bedroom before Smurf sees them – never works, by the way – and who’s had angry dads or boyfriends after him. Deran is far from a virgin, but he’s never been reckless with sex. Never really made an effort to get laid because when you’re a rich surfer, it’s not actually that hard to hook up with someone. There’s no challenge in it and Deran’s always figured that’s why he’s never felt that… interested. And then Adrian happened.  
  
”You’re okay, man?”  
  
_Please don’t ask me that. I have no idea._  
  
”Yeah.”  
  
_Liar._  
  
Deran isn’t aware of how he bites his thumbnail, how his eyes are flatting and how there are little twitches in his face. His heart is raising, behaving like it’s hanging by a thin tendon, barely attached to his body and ready to just drop at any second, like a lumpy jellyfish, splatting on the car floor. And all this because of Adrian.  
  
When Adrian parks outside his place, he turns around and looks straight at Deran, eyes dark blue and serious, freckled skin and a shade of stubble on the chin. Calm. Then he opens the door and gets out. Deran, not sure if he’s relieved or worried for Adrian not talking, just gets out, closes the door and Adrian locks. They’re still silent as they walk the few steps to the place he hires and when Adrian opens, Deran is struck by how different it looks to his own. It’s not primped, just… nicer. Looks more like an actual home than a motel room with it’s slightly messy but clean surfaces, the warm light from the lamps and the fact that Adrian actually has curtains. Dark blue, thin curtains.   
  
Adrian drops the keys in the small bown on the table and Deran’s eyes stuck by the computor, in their desperate search for something to focus on.  
  
”Wanna watch a movie or something?”  
  
It’s transparent to the point of comical, but Adrian lets him have it and nods.   
  
”Sure, pick some.”  
  
There is no couch in Adrian’s place, just the large bed and no tv either. They’ve watched movies together on that bed lots of times, sitting next to each other, leaning against the wall and used the computor as tv. Sometimes Adrian has held onto the headboard, knuckes whitening while Deran has fucked him hard and deep. Adrian likes it rough, something one definately can’t guess by looking at him. The thought of fucking him awakes Deran’s cock in no time, but this is anything but the right moment and he forces himself to think of Smurf which, of course, works like a charm and Deran goes limp again like he’s been skinny-dipping into ice water.  
  
They end up on the bed, a little distance between them and _From Dusk Til Dawn_ on the screen. Not because either of them wants to watch it right now, but it’s one they both like that is easy to watch without actually paying attention. They need to talk and Deran curses himself for not being able to stop giving a damn and tell Adrian to piss off. That Adrian, despite the distance between them, manages to make Deran feel all sorts of weird shit he has no time or interest to deal with.  
  
And still, Deran followed him home and he stays. He’s sitting on the thin cover, knees pulled up against his chest to lean his arms onto. He’s here because he simply does give a damn and because Adrian, unlike Smurf, after pulling him in, takes a step back and lets Deran have his space.


	7. Chapter 7

It’s late and another movie is going on the screen. The soft sounds from night creatures outside and the distant splashing from the waves have always made Deran feel good. Peaceful even, if that’s a word one can use for a guy like him. Adrian is tired, has been yawning for half an hour or so and the sight of it, the softness surrounding him where he sits in his old hoodie and jeans, head leaning heavily against the wall in a way that must be uncomfortable, sends a tug behind Deran’s ribs.  
  
Without looking, he puts an arm around Adrian and pulls him slowly onto his lap. He’s not really sure why he does it or if he even should, but it’s just something he must. Adrian arranges himself to a comfortable position, leans back against Deran’s chest and takes his hand. No words, no swift or purposeful movements.  
  
Deran’s never been good with delicate things. He’s the kind of guy who will trample them down, either on purpose or by accident. There’s nothing inside telling him to take care. Not of himself, not of others. That’s always been Smurf’s thing. Comfort is something Deran should seek from her, no one else regardless of gender and he and his brothers all have had their own ways trying to break free from her. By running off to Belize, Deran considers himself at least a little successful.  
  
Adrian’s slightly chapped hands are resting in Deran’s, his head bent a little to the side, cheek against Deran’s chest and it’s all so very strange because Deran isn’t gentle, isn’t soft or cuddly. He’s sure as hell not gay and the only reason he’s doing this, is because it’s Adrian. Because he made him worried in a way Deran doesn’t want him to be. Not for his sake or anyones. That’s why he comforts him, that’s why he holds him like they’re something more than friends. As if what they have together means something special. Because it does and with California and Smurf far away, a small piece of Deran silently admits that.   
  
If this was an ordinary night, they’d probably been fucking by now. That said, Deran would do the fucking. The sex has been really, really good ever since they first started this. At first just hands, then mouths. Drunken kisses even because it was fun and then it became nice. They’ve kissed while jacking each other off, kissed while being drunk and overly tired. Heated, hasty kisses, slow and building ones. They’ve never just stayed with kisses, probably because to Deran, it’s felt too gay. Just as him being the bottom is. The weight of Adrian’s tired body, the feeling of his lower back pressing against Deran’s crotch, isn’t helping but he doesn’t want to move away either.  
  
Adrian is solid. Familiar. Deran knows how every bit of him feels like. He knows his scent, the way he tastes and he misses it. God, how he misses what he did his best to erase with girls and so he gives in. A small move with his head, nudging Adrian’s forehead upwards, noses brushing and another piece of Deran’s self-hate get silenced and dies as they slot their mouths together. The kisses are warm, slow and tender. Searching, as if Deran’s not already done this more times than he cares to remember. But not like this, of course. Adrian is the only guy he’s ever wanted to kiss.  
  
They’re not drunk, not high. No excuses, no merciful shadow over Deran’s consciousness, no barrier between them and reality. They’ve been here for almost four weeks now and somewhere in Deran’s mind, he knows they have to go back, sooner or later. And this, whatever it is, wont last. Not with too many familiar eyes around them. Everytime Deran remembers that, something unnamed inside him seems to die, choking from his thoughts and whining pathetically with it’s last breath. And everytime, it just gets more painful, more fragile and Deran should stop this right now before it grows big enough for others to see. Should go back to hands, cock sucking and fucking Adrian from behind. Just do it for the release, the heated rush and nothing more, just as Deran pretends it was.   
  
The skin on Adrian’s neck is too smooth and Deran nuzzles the hairline, the sensitive spot behind Adrian’s ear and his heart is raising again as the man gasps from the nibbling. Deran never intended to know how another man’s scent can drive you mad, how you can come to crave something you wont even admit you want. He doesn’t want to know why he can’t seem to stop kissing his best friend or why he’s no longer able to ignore all the little signs of dissatisfaction he’s experienced in every sexual situation with a chick. If Adrian had been a chick, Deran would’ve wanted to do this too, right? Right?! _Yeah, right…_


	8. Chapter 8

Adrian is straddling Deran’s lap. The bed cover is rumpled and Deran keeps his eyes shut as he leans onto the wall. He wants this, _God_ how he wants it, but he can’t make himself look. Adrian’s kisses are almost teasing, raising the heat in a way Deran didn’t know kisses could do. Adrian kisses with his entire being, he’s lost to it and it’s the most intoxicating thing Deran’s ever felt. Adrian isn’t tense, there is no shame or hesitation in his kisses, no rush to just get done with it and start fucking, no forced seduction game Deran’s experienced with chicks.  
  
There’s a hand entangled in his hair, another tightening around his shoulder and Adrian rolls his hips slow and purposeful, sending waves of smooth wanting through Deran’s entire body. Their cocks grind against each other and Adrian starts thrusting, hard clothed thrusts, moaning low into the kisses.  
  
Deran doesn’t know where to put his hands and Adrian helps him, grasps for them and slides them down to his hips. It’s so different from a chick, just the form of the bones, the lean straightness, the lines of Adrian’s muscled torso and it’s almost overwhelming, having what Deran didn’t know he wanted between his hands. Every jerk from Adrian’s groin only serves to make Deran’s cock harder, almost painfully so, leaking through his pants and he tugs at Adrian’s hoodie, wants less layers between them and Adrian gets out of it, takes his tanktop off and removes Deran’s t-shirt with impatient moves.  
  
The sounds they’re making are low and primal, muffled for no real reason because who would hear them and if anyone did, why would it matter? They’re digging fingers, blunt nails hard into each others flesh, tugging and leaving crescent shaped marks in sunkissed skin. Deran, with all his reckless, bad boy macho layers, constantly pushing the limits for what his body can go through – new drugs, higher waves, longer jumps down and faster speed on any kind of wheels – has never felt anything like it. Adrian’s entire being consumes him, the thrusts have so much force it’s boardering on painful and the shape and size of his cock makes Deran’s mind reel.  
  
Their mouths slots together, Adrian’s biting down on Deran’s lower lip, sucking it in, making it raw swollen from his teeth and he moans.  
  
”Fuck... Let me ride you, man…”  
  
The words alone almost sends Deran over the edge and he shoves a hand down his pants and grabs the base of his cock with a hiss.  
  
”Get the lube.”  
  
Adrian strips, tugs down Deran’s shorts and widens himself quickly using slicked fingers and then he moves Deran to lay down, to get a better angle and he straddles him, slow to get used to the stretch before Deran thrusts up and deep and they both moan in unison. Adrian is wet, warm and so fucking tight, like a smooth vice around his shaft and Deran can feel him twitch and clench as he starts riding him.  
  
Deran is unable to close his eyes or look away. The way Adrian moves, the way he feels around him is simply too good, the moans everytime Deran hits his prostrate are unabashed, shameless and the way Adrian’s abdomen sways, how he pushes Deran closer with every lowering, every squeezing stroke from his muscles around Deran’s cock leaves him mindless, floating in sync with the rhythmic bounces. Deran can almost see when Adrian’s close, all the small nuances in his face, the way he grits his teeth and Deran swirls a hand around Adrian’s cock, giving him a tight channel to fuck and his friend screams.  
  
He doesn’t moan or hiss, doesn’t bite back in a half-choked groan, but screams as he comes and Deran follows him over, pounding hard until the orgasm takes over and all Deran is aware of, is how he comes, hard and hot and how the clenches from Adrian prolongs it, milk him dry and shaking in his bones, erasing every last annoying impression outside their coupling.


	9. Chapter 9

”One hell of a night…”  
”Yeah…”  
”You’re staying?”  
  
Adrian sounds more awake now and there’s a slight tension in the question, one that in another moment would’ve made Deran irritated, but he’s too calm – and too spent – to fall back into his usual macho role, acting like he doesn’t care. Like he doesn’t need any of this. They’re both buck naked and Adrian is laying on Deran’s arm, he just ended up there and Deran has no intention of moving him. Or himself.  
  
”Yeah. Can’t walk, man. You’d literally have to kick me out.”  
  
He smiles and the tension bleeds from Adrian, turning into a soft curve on his mouth and then the smile is back on his face too. It’s a smile without an agenda, a kind of smile Deran’s rarely seen. He brushes Adrian’s freckled cheek and presses a soft kiss on his forehead. It’s slightly sweaty and a mix of a sigh and a laugh leaves his friend.  
  
”God, I need a shower but I can’t move… Didn’t know I was this out of shape.”  
  
Deran just chuckles at that, tracing the line of Adrian’s side, his hipbone. Adrian’s body is nothing but lean muscles, visible sinews on his arms and a catlike strenght. It’s sunkissed skin, strong hands and musky scent and about as far from out of shape as it could be. The part of Deran who loves this, takes the opportunity now as the less allowing parts of him are momentarily silenced, and brushes knuckles softly over Adrian’s hip.  
  
”So you’re not displeased, then?”  
”Did I sound like I was?”  
”No…”  
  
Deran has colour on his cheeks and a teasing glimpse in his eyes.  
  
”Pretty sure the whole neighbourhood could hear you. Almost gave me a heart attack.”  
”Well… you didn’t seem unhappy about it either. I came twice, you know.”  
”Really?”  
  
He must sound both surprised and proud, because Adrian laughs and rubs a hand over his face.  
  
”You’re pretty damn good at this, especially for a straight dude.”  
  
Straight. Bi. Gay. Is there a thing called accidental homosexual? Away from judging eyes sexual? Alone with Adrian in Belize sexual? Because it’s not about guys. Or chicks. No matter what label Deran chooses to stick to himself, he can’t recall any chick or guy that has made him feel anything even remotely close to what Adrian releases inside him. It’s terrifying and amazing, gut-wrenching and soothing all the same, and it makes him feel completely out of control but still, weirdly enough, safe. They’ve been friends for a long time and that makes it even more fucked up. What changed and why? When did Adrian become something more than just a pal? Deran swallows.  
  
”You’re not… doing chicks at all?”  
  
Adrian smiles, eyes half-shut.  
  
”A very long time ago, but I never liked it. Guess I’m as gay as they come.”  
”Why didn’t you tell me?”  
”Oh, come on, man…”  
  
Adrian raises his eyebrows and Deran realises what a stupid question it is. He doesn’t want the tension coming back, doesn’t want to see his friend feel bad. Not now, not in place where no one can see them. This wont last but at least they can do the best of it, of what little time they have. Oceanside is still far away and Adrian is warm, soft and sleepish on Deran’s arm.  
  
”Hey… don’t overanalyze this, Deran. We’re friends and we’re fucking. I like it, you like it, simple as that. It’s our business, no one elses.”  
”Yeah.”  
  
He’s right, it is simple. And it’s not. Because it’s not just about the fucking. Or the friendship. It’s about Deran falling fucking high over heels in love with his best friend and that wasn’t supposed to happen so Deran tells himself it didn’t. You can fuck and cuddle without being in love and just because Deran’s never really wanted to cuddle with any girl he’s slept with, it doesn’t have to mean anything more than that it’s easier to be intimate in that way with someone you know. Someone who wont use it against you. Someone you’re… safe with.  
  
Adrian has his face bent into Deran’s chest and his breaths are calm and steady. He feels safe with Deran, enough to do this and yes, they could both need a shower, but there’s no way they’ll leave the bed now. There’s no way Deran will leave, either openly or by sneaking away. It feels too good in far too many ways for him to get back to his own shitty apartment and dive into the loneliness and fucked up spiral of thoughts that will show up as soon as he’s not snorting, smoking, drinking or fucking them away. And he doesn’t want Adrian’s scent to disappear from his skin. Not yet. Not until it inevitably has to.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! The title of this fic is shamelessly stolen from Children Of Bodom's "Everytime I Die":
> 
> "Another night, another demise,  
> Cadaverous wind blowing cold as ice...  
> I'll let the wind blow out the light  
> cause its gets more painful every time I die."
> 
> Thank ya'll for the nice comments! If you want a follow-up, just spam my inbox <3

Deran only goes back to his apartment once to get his stuff, pay the last rent and hand over the keys. They’re not talking about it, or about the fact that they have to get back to Oceanside soon. Too soon. They’re not mentioning what’s happened and continues to happen between them. They’re young, they’re free here and they’re determined to make the most of it.   
  
They’re surfing high waves, enjoying the solitude and fucking like they’re horny teens or animals. Kissing until they’re sore, falling asleep in a tangled pile, waking up the same and the scent Deran once wanted to get rid off, is glued onto his skin. They don’t shift roles again, but Adrian’s words about the freedom they actually have here, weren’t lost on Deran. He’s far more tender now, slower and lets his hands wander, linger. They both know that probably wont last either, but they’re still in Belize and in the meantime Oceanside can go fuck itself.  
  
In the evenings they’re not out drinking anymore, but staying inside, watching fucking Game Of Thrones and having take-aways and Old Nan chuckling her _”oh, my sweet summer child, what do you know of fear?”_ makes Adrian cringe inside, because he knows Belize is their summer and once they’re back in Oceanside, whatever they have here, will freeze. And Deran knows it too, even if he’s not showing it or would picture it like that.   
  
They’re both high on their temporary freedom, refusing to think about how it will be once they’re coming down again. Their last nights are lighthearted, Deran’s laughs are genuine, as if he’s not afraid anymore and Adrian allows them both to be fooled, giving all he’s got to let Deran feel just how good it can be when you’re not ashamed. How it feels to give in to the one thing Deran desperately wants and has been refusing himself for so long. That you don’t have to slowly die inside, again and again, until the self-hatred has swallowed you whole.  
  
Yes, it’s a pretty fantasy they’re living in and they need it. Because even if they’re falling asleep together in front of the screen, easy as only two people in love can do, even if the sun is bright and warm and the waves high and blue, Belize has stirred up something that just wont fade away, no matter where they are or how they define themselves and what they have together. The last morning, Deran is curled up like a kitten in Adrian’s arms and Adrian barely dares to breathe, afraid it will disturb his best friend’s peaceful slumber. And everytime they silently call themselves friends instead of lovers another piece of their hearts, hanging onto the last strings attaching them to their bodies, withers and dies.  



End file.
